


Have you seen Rudyard?

by thesleepypanda



Category: Wooden Overcoats (Podcast)
Genre: Bipolar Disorder, But that’s the idea, Chapman sticking his nose everywhere, Depression, Des and Nigel are always living their best lives, Georgie is a protective angel, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nothing really happens between them but it’s sweet ok, POV CHAPMAN, Rudyard is having a bad time, Rudyard is kinda OOC, but he means well
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-16 01:00:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29567868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesleepypanda/pseuds/thesleepypanda
Summary: The last time Eric spotted Rudyard, it was clear that something was very, very off. It’s now been two weeks and Eric wants to get to the bottom of where he’s been.
Relationships: Eric Chapman/Lady Templar, Eric Chapman/Rudyard Funn
Comments: 8
Kudos: 31





	Have you seen Rudyard?

“Chappers, darling, are you listening?” 

“Of course, Vivienne. Please, go on!” He let all his practised charm slide into his voice, and she seemed satisfied enough. He kept his trademark smile painted on, but his eyes kept flickering across the square at a spot behind her. 

“I was saying Francine is very interested in joining us on the yacht tonight, if you catch my meaning.” She let out one of her shrill, slightly mad laughs. More of a cackle, really. He tried his best to join in, but it was difficult even at the best of times. Why did he keep her around anyway? Damn her and her sexual prowess.

“Wonderful!” His eyes flickered behind her again and he leaned it quickly before she could let out another shriek.

His voice lowered to an almost whisper. “Listen, do you know what’s wrong with Rudyard?” 

She paused, raising an intensely-drawn eyebrow at him. “Excuse me?” 

He nodded his head towards her left, “Don’t make it obvious, though!”

She turned around immediately, blonde ponytail whipping across Eric’s face violently. He sputtered and pulled some out of his mouth. So much for subtlety. He stepped up beside her, and they both stared across the square. Eric’s brow creased in concern, and Lady Templar looked faintly amused as ever.

Rudyard Funn sat on a small, worn, wooden bench tucked under a large tree. Eric wasn’t sure he’d ever even noticed it before. There were much newer, iron ones spread around the square. He sat perfectly still, arms hanging loosely at his sides, staring straight ahead. He’d been there when Eric stepped out for a morning stroll. And when he’d met with the mayor for lunch. And now—as the sun was just short of setting—he still hadn’t moved.

Eric didn’t know if he’d ever seen Rudyard sitting down before. During funerals, plays, meetings, even during his _trial_ , he was always manically pacing. 

“Oh, he just gets like that!” A familiar shrill burst of laughter. “He always has! Now, how about that sunset cruise?” She blinked heavily lidded eyes at him and winked.

____________________

One afternoon, Eric spotted Georgie coming out of The Broken Tooth. He hurried over, waving eagerly and flashing his most charming grin before abruptly remembering she hated it. 

“Good afternoon, Georgie!”

She rolled her eyes and walked towards her red moped, dismissing him entirely. 

“Georgie, wait! I was just wondering if you’ve seen Rudyard.”

She stopped and turned around slowly, eyeing him with more suspicion than he found strictly appropriate. “Why?”

There hadn’t been a peep from Rudyard in almost two weeks. No more sightings either. If his self-declared rival were anyone else, Eric would assume he was up to some sort of plot or scheme. But Rudyard’s plans were always rushed and reactive. He didn’t exactly play the long game. That, paired with the strange incident in the square, had been nagging at Eric.

“I just haven’t seen him around lately. No attempts at sabotaging me or anything.”

His attempt at a casual laugh didn’t sound quite right, even to his own ears. George squinted her eyes as if searching for something in his expression.

“He’s busy,” she said firmly, turning her back. “Leave it alone.”

She held a _very_ large bag of sherbet lollies. 

____________________

At the next council meeting, Rudyard was nowhere to be found. No one else seemed to notice. Afterwards, Eric glanced around the room, trying to gauge who he should speak to. Rudyard had lived here his whole life. Surely someone knew what was happening. 

He caught a flash of an aqua suit and hurried into the corridor. “Your Worship!” He made sure to hide his anxiety behind the award-winning smile everyone in the village was so fond of. 

“Ah, Eric! I’m so glad you stopped me. I meant to ask you what you think about getting more raccoons shipped to the island–”

“I—what? More? No, never mind. I was wondering if you know what’s going on with Rudyard.”

The mayor stared at him blankly.

“Funn. Rudyard Funn. The only Rudyard in the vill—the almost town.”

“Oh yes! _Dreadful_ fellow. What about him?”

“Have you seen him around? It’s been a few weeks and I’ve only seen him once. Isn’t he usually at these things? And everywhere, actually.”

Desmond looked surprised and glanced around, as if he wanted to confirm his absence for himself. Nigel walked over, grabbed his hand and smiled in that lovesick way. 

Eric cleared his throat. “Nigel! I was just asking Des here about Rudyard’s recent absence from...well, everything.”

Nigel smiled lovingly at him. “Oh Dessie! You know how Rudyard gets.”

The mayor nodded suddenly, “Oh, of course! It’s hard for me to remember everyone’s details. I’m usually kept very busy.”

Nigel took both his hands in his, and kissed him gently on the cheek. 

Eric cleared his throat again and forced another smile. “Sorry, but what exactly does that–”

“Oh!” Mayor Desmond Desmond let out a sudden gasp. “Nigel, we’re nearly late for the puppet show! Eric, you should come. It’s a re-enactment of Psycho. Simply _enchanting_. Although they’ve only got the one pink elephant puppet for every role. It’s still very disturbing! All the local families will be there.”

He grabbed Nigel’s hand and rushed towards the nearest exit. 

Eric turned around, and wasn’t ashamed to admit he jumped back a step or two. Georgie stood there with her hands on her hips, glowering at him. “What do you want with Rudyard? Just let it go. Or else. I’m _great_ at roundhouse kicks.”

“I’m just a bit worried. He’s practically omnipresent most of the time. And the last time I saw him, something seemed wrong. Is he sick? Can I do anything? What happened?”

Her glare softened almost imperceptibly. “Nothing happened.”

“Come on, you can’t tell me I’m imagining this.”

“I didn’t say you are. I just said _nothing has happened_.” She sighed heavily. “He just gets like this.”

Eric groaned before he could stop himself, “Like what?!”

Georgie paused for a moment, studying his face carefully before sighing again. “Listen Eric. I don’t like you and I really don’t trust you. But everyone else knows anyway, so it’s not exactly a secret. And I’m sick of you asking and drawing attention to it.”

Eric opened his mouth to protest, but she held up a finger. “I’ll only say this once so shut up and listen. I’m sure you’ve noticed that Rudyard has a _lot_ of energy. It’s always plan after plan, scheme after scheme, endless fury, never pausing for breath.”

Eric nodded slowly. 

“All that, ya know, manic energy...it’s not sustainable, is it? It’s like, he just borrows it from his future self. He kinda...rides out the highs as long as he can until this happens. He just crashes for a while. Antigone said he’s been like that since they were kids.”

“I mean, I know _she’s_ always–”

“Antigone’s depression is more like a constant that she manages. Well, sort of. Tries to, anyway. Rudyard’s is like, totally immersive and then poof! Gone for awhile. He’s like a pendulum. He had a long high recently, so he’s having a longer crash. That’s why you haven’t seen it before.” She paused and shrugged. “Nothing to be done.”

He heard a small squeak of assent from the pocket of her leather jacket. Georgie shrugged at Eric’s raised eyebrows. “Madeline was getting bored. She likes to keep up with the action.”

____________________

When Eric first laid eyes on Funn Funerals—before he knew they were rivals—he assumed the building was abandoned. The wood panels were heavily worn and weathered, the iron gate was covered in rust, and many of the windows were boarded up. Those that weren’t were covered by a nearly opaque layer of grime.

The house was very narrow and—despite its three stories—felt claustrophobic, with an oppressive quality to it. There was one small, sinister tower at the top. He allowed himself a childish moment to imagine that it housed some ancient witch. Probably in a dark cloak, holding a candle, staring into the abyss.

He’d always thought it must be an incredibly dreadful place to work.

But as he stood in the middle of the square, shamelessly staring up at it, he considered what it must be like to live there. Hell, to _grow up_ there. What kind of childhood was that? He could vividly imagine a tiny Rudyard coming home from school to this dismal house filled with death and decay. 

He shook his head. Right. Enough staring, more doing. He was _Eric Chapman,_ wasn’t he? Hardening his resolve, he strolled over with far more confidence than he felt. But who was he performing for, really? The entire square was deserted. Nearly everyone in Piffling Vale was at the mayor’s fundraiser, including Antigone and Georgie. Something about a local zebra with asthma. 

____________________

The door was a deep burgundy, with large chunks peeling off, and seemed to hint at all the blood and gore the place had seen since the 14th century (or whatever century Rudyard was always on about.)

There was a dusty, plastic doorbell that he seriously doubted was in service. He opted for the ancient knocker instead–a huge iron thing that managed to make the door look even more sinister. How they ever got a single client to walk in these doors was beyond him. He banged it several times, flinching a bit at the volume, and waited for what felt like ages. He stuffed his hands in his coat and rocked back on his heels a bit, trying to keep warm. 

The door slowly opened with a loud creak. Eric involuntarily backed up at the sight of  
Rudyard. 

His eyes had always been a bit unnerving. They were perpetually encased in dark circles; his irises were practically black and bled into his pupils seamlessly. But they usually sparkled with a sort of manic glint that made them land more on the mesmerizing side of disturbing. Now that they were completely flat and lifeless, it was like staring into two endless pits. Eric felt as if they were threatening to pull him in.

His pale skin now seemed nearly translucent. His black hair, always aggressively gelled into place (the complete opposite of his sister’s relentlessly frazzled appearance) now looked like it hadn’t been brushed in several days. Dark waves hung around his face. He tried not to think of it as artfully disheveled. Not the point, Eric. Focus. 

His usual idea of professionalism was wearing an ill-fitting white button-up all day, every day. Always freshly pressed and tucked into dress slacks. Now he was in red pajama pants that were both too wide and too short and a huge black t-shirt that was hopelessly wrinkled. It had a logo of some punk band, meaning it was almost certainly Georgie’s. Rudyard probably only listened to classical music. Or hated music altogether.

His arms were alarmingly thin, exaggerated by the t-shirt size, and Eric wondered if his weight was a recent development or if he’d just never actually seen his body. Whatever the case, he did not look well in any sense of the word. Eric swallowed and forced a small smile.

“Rudyard, I just, uh, do you mind if I come in?” Since when was Eric imprecise with his language?

He stared for a few moments with those strange hollow eyes, shrugged, and turned back inside. The door was left open, which was probably as much of an invitation as Eric could hope to get.

It was somehow colder here than it was outside. Christ. And he was wearing a jumper, heavy jacket, and scarf. 

Eric blew on his hands and rubbed them together. “Why don’t you have the heater on?”

“We don’t have heating.” Rudyard’s voice was uncharacteristically quiet and toneless. Eric hated it.

“What? Why not?”

“Because it’s expensive, Chapman.” He spoke in a matter of fact way, but Eric still felt a prickle of guilt settle into his gut. He nodded, feeling awkward. The entirety of Chapman’s five story place had full heating and a roaring fireplace in every room. 

He stared at Rudyard’s thin t-shirt and bare feet. “Well, why aren’t you bundled up?”

Rudyard looked thoughtful for a moment, as if he hadn’t considered it, and shrugged. Eric could see the goosebumps on his arms from across the room. His lips had a bluish tint.

He wasn’t sure why he’d shown up initially, but now he was filled with an overwhelming desire to protect and take care of him. 

There wasn’t really anything he could do to help his depression. He’d tried to fix someone before—a long time ago. He could, however, try to help fulfill his basic needs. 

“Why don’t you come over? My chef’s made — er, I mean, _I’ve_ made some delicious chicken soup. Might warm you up a bit.”

“No,” he said flatly, no longer meeting Eric’s eyes. “I’m fine.”

“You’d be doing me a favor, honestly. Everyone else is at the mayor’s event. You’d be keeping me company. And I won’t try to ask you a bunch of questions or anything. We don’t have to talk at all.” 

“We don't?” He asked, sounding suspicious. 

Eric shook his head emphatically. “No. I mean, we can if you want to. But I won’t try to make you.”

He sighed heavily, as if he really was doing Eric a huge favor, and slipped on some worn loafers by the front door. When he reached for the handle, Eric quickly reached out and grabbed his arm. It was like touching a block of ice. It almost hurt. 

“No, no way. Not like that. It’s snowing out there!”

Rudyard peered through the grimy window, looking faintly surprised. “I suppose it is.”

Eric took off his coat and handed it over. It was a testament of how out of it Rudyard was that he slipped it on without question. He seemed to relax into it. He didn’t bother to button it up, but it was better than nothing.

As they crossed the square, Rudyard paused to look up at the sky. Eric was shivering, but as the white flecks gently landed on Rudyard’s coal-black hair and Eric’s too-big peacoat, he just didn’t have the heart to rush him. When Rudyard’s nose eventually turned from pink to bright red, Eric walked over and grabbed his hand gently. 

Rudyard didn’t pull away. Eric couldn’t help but notice how well it fit in his. The contrast of their skin, the way his fingers were just thin enough to fit between his perfectly. He rubbed his thumb across a bony wrist, and immediately jerked it away; he knew he was crossing a line. But when he looked back, Rudyard was still staring straight up.

“Rudyard, you’re going to get sick.”

He finally looked at Eric, eyes a bit unfocused, and a small smile at the edge of his lips. “I love snow.”

Eric grinned, despite his worry, and pulled him across the square. “You can love it through the window.”

____________________

Rudyard shivered for a long time after they made it inside. Eric gave him his warmest, thickest jumper. As he pulled it on, his t-shirt rode up and Eric tried his hardest not to stare at those sharp hip bones. He was trying to help him, not _ogle_ him. 

He also gave him wool mittens and thick socks, and draped a huge plaid fleece on top of his shoulders. Rudyard was uncharacteristically silent throughout all of this. Eric had to fight every instinct in him to make small talk. He was so used to constant, mindless chatter that he quite literally had to bite his tongue a few times. 

Rudyard looked very small as he sat in front of the large fireplace. He watched the flames intently. Eric wondered for the thousandth time what was going on in his head. 

When Eric brought him a steaming bowl of soup, he shook his head apologetically. “I can’t.” Eric opened his mouth to demand more of an explanation, but Rudyard looked at him with those sad eyes again and he nodded with a sigh. 

He did, however, accept the hot chocolate he returned with. He pulled off the mittens and wrapped thin hands around the cup, still staring unblinkingly at the fire. Eric felt like he was going to explode from withholding conversation, so he wandered over to the bookshelf and pulled out _Success For The Already Successful._

He sat on the floor, near Rudyard but still giving him a decent breadth of space, with his back pressed against the sofa. Eric wasn’t sure how long they sat like that, but he eventually realized his back was aching. He’d just wandered to the kitchen to fetch Rudyard a cup of tea, when he heard a loud, demanding knock. A knock that wasn’t stopping. Rudyard didn’t even turn around. 

Chapman frowned as he hurried over to the door. He paused to peer through the peephole and sighed. The knock was growing even louder and he tried to hide his annoyance as he threw the door open. 

“Good evening, Georgie. Antigone.”

“Oh cut the shit, where the hell is—” Georgie began. 

“Rudyard?” Antigone asked softly, peering around Eric’s shoulder. Eric stepped to the side and Antigone walked over to him slowly. She folded next to him on the hearth and nudged his shoulder. He couldn’t hear from the doorway but they shared a small smile, and Eric beamed at no one in particular. 

When he turned around, Georgie’s lips were pursed but she was no longer glaring. “Let’s get you both home,” she said, still somewhat intense, but with an underlying softness. 

Antigone began folding the fleece blanket as they stood. 

“Oh, don’t worry—” he began, but then Rudyard was standing next to him. 

“Thanks, Chapman.”

Before he got a chance to reply, Georgie had grabbed both of their arms and started marching them across the square. Rudyard was still in his jumper. Chapman smiled. It looked better on him, anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> This has been abandoned in my docs for over a year so I decided to finally set it free. Might add a little more ship/Chapter 2 later. But yeah, this is basically just me projecting onto Rudyard wheeeeeeee


End file.
